


The Bonding

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 14:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4831982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Kaelar</p><p>Zen gets friendly with the Liberator's new pilot</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> Previously Published in Standard by Several #4 (1992)

It was a few weeks after the two young people became part of the Liberator's crew before Avon trusted Tarrant enough to let the pilot take the night watch alone. Before leaving the flight deck, Avon rechecked all the instruments as Tarrant watched him impatiently. Finally, Avon was finished. As he left, he called over his shoulder, "Vila will be here to relieve you in four hours, if he doesn't oversleep."

Tarrant just nodded and watched as the computer expert vanished down the corridor. Finally, he had the flight deck to himself. He enjoyed the privacy for a few minutes, then ambled around the huge control center, once again marvelling at the alien beauty of it. He settled in the weapons-control seat and busied himself learning how to operate Liberator's armaments.

Since they were in a relatively quiet section of space, and hadn't had any run-ins with the Federation since his arrival, the watch passed uneventfully. Tarrant checked his chronometer and noted that there was less than an hour before his shift ended. He went to the pilot's station and noted their bearing; they were still right on course. He rested his hands on the console.

Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation pass through him. Startled, he tried to pull back, but he couldn't move; his hands seemed glued to the panel. Fear-inspired adrenalin surged through his system, and he considered calling for help. But before he could, a sudden peace washed over him. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

He felt a presence in his mind, and he opened up to it. It was asking questions about his past; his plans for the future. He dutifully answered them, and was surprised at what happened next. Visions of  _Liberator_  flashed through his mind, with information about the ship accompanying each one. He delighted in it all. It was as if he and the ship were one.

Then it was over. Someone was shaking him. "Tarrant. Tarrant! Wake up! The pilot slowly opened his eyes. Vila was standing beside him. "You're lucky I came before Avon did," he sniffed. What would he think of finding you asleep on your first solo watch?"

"I wasn't asleep," Tarrant began to argue. "I was..." he trailed off, not knowing how to explain what happened to him.

Vila eyed him skeptically. "Well, don't let it happen again," he said imperiously, "or Avon will hear of it."

Tarrant was ignoring the thief. He stood slowly. "It's all yours," he said.

As the pilot turned to leave, Zen's voice suddenly boomed out in the silence,  **Welcome, Del Tarrant**.

Tarrant turned and smiled at the computer. "Thank you, Zen," he replied softly, and was gone.

Vila stood in confused silence for a moment, then plopped ungracefully on the couch. "Pilots," he muttered, "Never could understand them." He pulled out his deck of cards and began practicing all the tricks he knew.


End file.
